


Not Too Young

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Series: Coming of Age [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Multiple Partners, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By DiamondPart 5 of the Coming of Age series. Merry realizes that pushing away Pippin was the worst thing he could do.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Series: Coming of Age [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819885
Kudos: 2
Collections: Least Expected





	Not Too Young

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: Can I just have them all? No really, all these characters are Tolkien's and I don't rightly know what he'd make of all this! I do it all for love, not money.  
> Story Notes: Merry's perspective. Year is 1413 S.R., Frodo is 45, Sam is 33, Merry is 31 and Pippin is 23.

* _Merry_ *

Merry thought he was going to die.

This was all his fault; his for not understanding, his for not watching over Pippin, and his for not claiming . . . no, that wasn't right. His for not admitting the claim Pippin had on his heart.

Pippin glared at him, hating him, Merry was certain, for never had he seen Pippin's eyes this blazing a green before; it was like cold fire, piercing his heart and stealing his breath away. He felt he must sit or faint.

Frodo had just left for Sam, poor Sam who had obviously been distraught over his predicament, and who obviously had been the one used in this affair--Merry knew without the faintest whiff of a doubt that Pippin had coerced him, as only Pippin could. Sam would never have contemplated such a thing, and certainly would never have instigated it with that rigid "class standing" his Gaffer had drilled into him. A common past, Sam and he shared in having rather forceful fathers. Merry knew too well about being drilled in behavior. All that drilling had led exactly to this; to his pushing Pip away, to Pip's revenge on him. He could almost hate his father. "Pippin, can you please put something on? I want to talk to you," Merry finally said, making his way towards the bed as it was the closest place for a seat and he wanted--needed--to be close to Pippin.

Pippin humphed, tossing aside the shirt on his lap so that Merry had to close his eyes or risk actions which at present would _not_ be appropriate. How could he infuriate him and worry him and excite him at the same time?! It was unbearable. "I have nothing to say. I haven't done anything wrong; Sam likes me and I like him and I wanted to see what it was like--all your carrying on with the lasses. I am _not_ a child any more, Merry. This should prove it." There came the sound from the wardrobe of rustling cloth, and Merry dared crack one eye open to find Pippin had donned his bathing robe and was now sitting on the opposite side of the bed, arms still crossed and legs splayed wide. He stifled a groan.

Only twenty-three, Merry thought in horror, only twenty three and there were a good seven more years he could expect this sort of petulant sulky behavior. Maybe he should just walk out, leave Pip alone for a good 2 or 3 years and see if they were both a little more level-headed next time. He knew he wouldn't. Leaving Pippin would be like leaving his legs behind--he'd never get anywhere without him. "I never said you were a child, Pip. I said you were awfully young to be having such a relationship. How can you know what you want? I only said no because I didn't want to hurt you; because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I really care for you. You're going to be Thain one day. You can't . . . we can't . . . " oh, it was no use--his tongue wouldn't say the words. He was too busy looking at the slim curve of one thigh the bathrobe had slipped away from, up to the brown moppish curls falling in his face and the fullness of his lips--fullness that could only have come from certain activities . . . this was _really_ bad timing to be having this discussion. Merry shifted in discomfort, fighting the urge to take Pip's discarded shirt and throw it over his own lap to conceal things.

* * *

This had started not tonight but steadily over the last several months or so. He had to admit he _had_ been pushing Pip away and 'carrying on with the lasses'--it was the only way to satisfy urges he had no intention on satisfying with Pippin. It also eased things with his family--especially his father, who had been ill at ease over all the time spent first with Frodo growing up, then with Pippin--and now of course _he_ was most definitely growing up! He didn't want to subject Pip to that kind of trouble in the family. One time he thought he'd had it--his father had seen past the faade and read the truth behind his desires, one night after having been with Frodo . . . it had taken weeks for the bruises to heal. He'd never told Frodo that. He never would, either; his cousin was simply too fragile, too beautiful a thing to damage that way.

Which was why he'd decided never to tell Pip about his feelings either, do anything it took to try and bend Pippin's interests elsewhere--him, he could handle the contempt and the lectures, even the beatings, but never Pip--Pip was dandelion fluff--so airy, floating free above the troubles of the earth, beautiful and wild as the wind. Pippin was the child he never got to be, and he never wanted him to become bitter and cynical like him, or closed and evasive like Frodo. He should always be the wonderful, funny, brazen Took.

At Sam's party, all Merry's plans had been laid to ruin. They had both drank too much (especially Pip--it was only a few years now that he was old enough to drink at pubs to begin with), and after the failed attempt to get Sam to smoke a pipe filled with leaf gone to worms, they'd snuck out back to spy on Folco and Marigold kissing at the back of the inn, hoping to spoil their fun by either stealing Marigold's ribbons or pelting them with a well placed acorn--Pippin knew just how to aim his little slingshot to send a little stinger right at the tip of the ear or better yet right in the butt--yet somehow seeing them kiss gave Pippin other ideas.

"What do you think he sees in her, Merry?" he whispered, his breath right at Merry's ear, sending a shiver down him and a tingling warmth to parts he'd just as soon not mention. In his drunken state the young Took had his arms wrapped around him; they'd always been familiar, but as Pip grew into a more and more handsome hobbit, it was beginning to disturb Merry; gently he removed Pip's arms to his sides, though he couldn't help but rub them against the cold chill of the night.

"He thinks she's pretty, perhaps, or she's a good kisser. Kissing's nice," Merry whispered back, eyeing the ground for a good acorn or nut. Pip had been asking more and more questions about this sort of thing lately, asking him everything he did with lasses, detail by detail. One time he'd been rather drunk and actually let spill how a miss Daisy Chubb went down on him--oh, that had sparked a huge conversation he'd just as soon forget--he'd been so hard describing it to Pippin (while imagining the young Took engaged in similar behavior) that he'd almost busted a button. He hoped Pip would just let it be this time.

Of course, he didn't. "Yeah, I think I'd like to try kissing, that and more . . . " Pip breathed, and looked hard at him in way that made his knees tremble and his belly fill with heat. He couldn't possibly know what that look did to him; he was too young, too innocent. Or so Merry had thought.

Merry laughed, shoving Pip in the chest to conceal his flustered state, then the two of them were forced to hide a moment as Folco and Marigold finished their little tryst and walked past. Once they were gone, he asked, "Want me to go grab Fatty's sister for a nice long smooch? I think I could get her to kiss you."

Pippin stuck out a tongue. "No, I don't want to kiss any girls."

This confirmed it--he was still at that 'girls are icky' stage. Definitely too young, Merry thought, smirking as he tussled Pip's hair in way he had always liked. But this time he yanked Merry's hand away. Blinking, Merry saw he was giving him _that look_ again. His toes curled.

He was about to say something wise, something profound that older cousins imparted to their younger best mate, but before he could, Pippin asked in a husky voice, "What about lads, Merry? Can two lads find pleasure in kissing?" Merry opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Pip grabbed him about the waist just as Folco had done to Marigold, and pressed in hard to rub his lips across Merry's, trying to mimic the other couple; he ground their hips together and Merry whimpered; he couldn't hide his state now, and it was a shock to realize he wasn't alone. Pippin's erection felt huge against him; perhaps he was still used to the feel of his small arms around him when he was a wee lad; or perhaps he just didn't want to accept that Pippin and he were on equal footing now. Either way, the feel of Pip against him was heady stuff, far worse than the ale; it was making every muscle tense up in expectation, sending flashes of pleasure along his extremities.

Add to that the feel of Pippin's lips, so tentative he knew this was his first kiss, but so tender and natural he also knew he would make an incredible lover, and his will was all but in tatters. He stood shock still as Pippin deepened the kiss and his body seemed to vibrate in need as Pip with his usual great daring gave a little lick between his lips, and it was all Merry could do not to moan and wrap his arms around his cousin and push him to the ground--suddenly he realized what they were doing--exactly what he had promised himself he would _never_ . . . . he shoved Pippin away, gasping. He shoved so hard Pip hit against the side of the tavern with a thump against the wood and was immediately sorry; but Pip glared in fury at him.

Or now that he thought about it, had it been hurt?

"No, Pip," he'd croaked out, backing away, something, anything to get away. He wanted this so bad, but to be an experiment for Pip, like Frodo had been for him . . . he couldn't bear it. Of course Pip would move on, probably right after tonight, in fact. He was just safe territory, nothing more. And his heart couldn't bear it; it would shatter into a thousand pieces the moment it was over. Far better that it never begin. "You don't want me; you just want a first time--I know; I've been there. But take my advice--do it with a lass--you don't want this road; believe me, you don't. You're too young."

"No, I'm not! All right, I can think of another if you're not interested. Now at least I know it's possible--I bet everything you've told me _does_ work whether it's a lass or a lad!" Pippin turned on his heel and was walking away before Merry could say anything else, and though he was trying to smile, to brush everything off, Merry sensed he was hiding something, but he was still too flustered by the kiss to concentrate on it. All he knew was that Pippin was headed for trouble _again_.

"Pip, don't you do anything rash--please, I'm sorry--but this really isn't a good idea--"

"No worries, Merry! I'll just have another ale and go home--forget this ever happened," Pippin turned and walked off, and Merry almost ran after him, but if he caught him, he knew how it would go. He'd see those beautiful small lips and think of what they had felt like and lean in to learn more . . . he needed a distraction, a very big distraction, before he went to deal with Pip. Estella. They'd done a few things together; he liked her, she was pretty. She'd do perfectly.

It took very little coaxing on his part; she liked him even more than he liked her, and she was a lass who wasn't shy about what she wanted. A quick dance, a murmured endearment or two, and they were out in the front behind a blackberry bush and she was urging his hands to her breasts and kissing him and for a moment--just a moment, he could put Pip out of his mind.

Until he heard something--a grunt, a gasp. Still kissing Estella, he peeked over in the direction of the inn.

He saw Pip and Sam break apart--had they? He wasn't positive, but it was obvious Pip had seen him--he glanced back even as Sam led him away, glaring at him, and now the hurt was obvious, and he recognized something--it was suddenly like looking in a mirror. He had pushed Pip away, and hurt him--there _was_ something there; it wasn't just an experiment.

Now he couldn't follow for a much worse reason--Estella was urging him on, but he'd suddenly lost desire. And it wasn't right. He was using her. He respected her too much for that. As gently as he could he broke away and murmured into her ear, "I'm so sorry, I cannot. I like you, I really do, but I can't."

She looked at him with dark brown eyes, measuring him. "You love someone else." It was not a question, and thankfully it wasn't a challenge or an accusation either; merely an observation. She caressed his cheek, smiling wistfully.

"You're my good friend, Estella. I can't do this to you. You're right--sort of. It's too hard to explain."

She sighed, using her hand on his check to tilt his chin down and kissed him again, lightly, testing. He was tempted to keep going--she was a good kisser, after all, but no, it wasn't what he wanted. He couldn't delude himself any longer. She broke off this time, with another wistful smile, and playfully pinched his ear. "You make me crazy, Brandybuck. I love you, but I know you don't love me. At least walk me inside then; it'll make a few good rumors anyway, and I can bug the stuffing out of Fatty for a good month or so with it." She grinned wickedly, so like him he had to laugh.

He walked her in, gave her a last friendly peck on the cheek, and found Frodo.

He tried to hurry home with Frodo as fast as he was able--he didn't want to say what had happened between him and Pip and it seemed Frodo had concerns of his own--poor dear Frodo, there was something still between them; it would never go away entirely. When Frodo asked if he'd hurt him, it was kind of a shock; again he thought of Pippin. "Of course not, Frodo--we were just exploring--I knew that. I'll admit I was a _little_ jealous when you started talking about Sam, but only a little. I can't even describe how strong my feelings are for Pip. It scares me to my roots. If anyone has the power to hurt me, he does. I have to talk to him."

* * *

Now he finally got it. Even if Pip didn't love him the same way, he shouldn't have pushed him away; he shouldn't have rejected him--Pip had wanted him to be his first, the same he had wanted Frodo . . . with a sickening knot in his stomach, Merry realized that by _not_ doing anything, he'd probably just ruined their friendship.

While Merry had been contemplating his words of the evening, Pip had used his chance to vent his feelings. "Merry, you have _no_ idea what I've been going through over the last year or so--you-you-don't know _how_ many times I wanted to kiss you, or hold you, but you were always so quick to give me that awful childish pat on the head and grin and say 'Oh Pip, you fool', and then I'd watch you go off and fool around with another lass and I'd swallow my anger and try to pretend it didn't bug me because you're my best friend in the entire world and I can't--" he hiccupped on what sounded almost like a sob, but carried on ruthlessly, "I can't have you hating me, but now I've really done it and I'm sure you do and now Sam's got Frodo and I've got no one and I'm just tired and I want to go to sleep! So just . . . leave, ok? Like I said earlier, just forget the whole thing happened."

Merry tried to think what to say to Pippin to make things right; at least make them better. "I was wrong to push you away, Pip. You're right. I guess you're not too young."

Pip's voice was equal parts anger and misery. "Just go away. I don't want to talk any more."

Despair ate at the shields Merry had held up so long; he felt hot tears gather ready to fall and his chest was so tight he could scarcely breathe. He opened his mouth to plead with Pip, when a soft knock and Frodo's voice stopped him. "Sorry to interrupt--I've got Sam here. Are things . . . all right?"

Frodo and Sam peeked in the door, and it was all Merry could do not to run and bury his head in Frodo's arms--but he wasn't a young tweenie now; he was almost of age, and he must face his own trials. He simply nodded at Frodo, then Sam was blurting out an apology to him, and he was glad he'd held back his urge; Frodo's face positively glowed with a happiness he had _never_ seen--oh--they had both declared their love; it was all that he had hoped for Frodo. He smiled even through his tears and Frodo smiled back at him, worried, yes, and hurting for him, bless him, but he squashed down his pain and tried to look strong, for Frodo's sake. He wasn't going to ruin such happiness. He'd already done more than his share tonight. As Sam finished his apology he gave him a reassuring look and tried to muster up his voice. "Thank you, Sam. I--I don't hold you at fault for anything . . . I know Pip . . . I know how it can be with him."

Frodo asked if they should join but with a look Merry stopped him and said no. This was his bath he had prepared, and he would freeze in it. Frodo announced Sam and he would be in his room--the body language was for Pip, Merry realized, for he certainly knew what Frodo would be intending for Sam--it stung, a little, the blatant joy in them against his own bleeding emotions, but thankfully then they closed the door. He glanced at Pip and blinked. Pip had gone from defiant and angry to cowed and defeated. That hurt more than the anger, more than anything else that had happened this awful night. Merry rose and sat down close to him. The tears he could no longer keep back; two escaped as he raised a hand hesitantly to Pip's curls, before drawing it back at the rage in his eyes. Merry choked on a sob.

Pip tilted his chin up in a ragged remnant of his defiance, blinking hard to smash away a tear, but it only clung to his long eyelashes instead. "Why don't you want me?" he asked in a whisper.

With a sob Merry threw his arms around Pip. That he had done this, that he was the cause of so much pain was a worse torture than he could have dreamt up as punishment for himself; it simply wasn't to be borne. "Please forgive me, Pip; I know it's all my fault. I do want you; I did want you there at the party, but I didn't want you to become like me; I wanted a _normal_ life for you. I only want for you to be happy, and I just don't see how you can with someone like me. I've been nothing but trouble since the day I was born."

Pip had stiffened when he first embraced him, but as he spoke he felt the tension melting away, and suddenly Pip was throwing his arms around him too and they were both crying and hugging and Pip was assuring him that if Merry was trouble then he was far worse trouble and trouble should stick together. Merry debated saying the words her really longed to say--he still didn't know if it was right. He decided right be hanged; for once he was going to be honest and brave and not hide his feelings any more. It hurt too much to hide; he had done it for far too long.

"I love you, Pip. More than you'll ever know," he said into the great mass of Pippin's curls, holding him close. It might be his only chance to do that again.

Pip squirmed in his arms, trying to escape and he bit back a cry, but it was only to pull away enough to look nose to nose with him, and he realized the green of Pippin's eyes had gone soft and muted, and the love he felt was mirrored there in every way. "You do?" Pip whispered, and the longing in his face instantly set parts of Merry to warming and firming.

Merry touched those lips that had kissed him, aching, wanting. "I've always loved only you. No matter who I was with, I was always thinking of you."

Pip looked down, and Merry had to kiss his wet eyelashes where they rested on his cheek. "Then why . . . "

"Because I'm the real fool. And because I figured you felt just friendship for me, nothing more."

Pip opened his eyes and Merry absolutely lost himself in them. "No, Merry. I've always loved you too. Even before I knew what love was, I think. But I more than love you. I _want_ you. Is that terribly bad?"

Merry could not hide a cynical smile. "I honestly don't know, Pip. But I can tell you this. I want you very badly too. Very, _very_ badly. See?" and he took Pip's hand and placed it on his erection, fighting to keep his eyes open as Pip's eyes got very wide and his fingers did a little scouting out of the territory.

Just the hint of a smile touched Pippin's face. He blushed and bit his lip. "Do you think we could try the kissing thing again?"

For an answer, Merry melded their lips together.

* * *


End file.
